the way your scars make a constellation of your pain,
they tell a story your lips will never accept

Faking happiness is an impossible task,
I was tired of wearing a mask,
faking a smile wasn't easy,
even if I feel sick and dizzy,
no one understood the pain I had,
or why was I always sad,
all they did was make fun,
and it's then when I thought I'm done,
unfulfilled dreams and a broken heart,
I thought I should've ended it from the start,
I burried all the pain deep inside my soul,
but yeah that's how I roll,
Crying all day and night,
and picking up a fight,
with almost everyone everyday,
I hope one day I'll be okay,
and lately I've been falling a little out of place,
thinking about my dreams lost without a trace,
Will they realize my importance when I'm dead,
Ahh my eyes were red and the pain in my head,
I didn't want to live like this anymore,
because the pain everyday was more,
heart full of pain and sorrow,
I wish there was a brighter day tomorrow,
Cutting or self harm was all I thought about,
but I always had some or the other doubt,
I've gone through a lot, seen a lot of things I wasn't supposed to see,
and the only person who ever knew was me,
the pain kills me,
I wanted someone to set me free,
A little love is what I need,
But no one ever paid heed,
the hurt, the pain,
was driving me insane,
If I ever truly showed you what's inside,
you'd say I should've died,
Instead of living like this,
no good food, no love, no goodnight kiss,
just tears, headaches, and lots of pain,
but I wanted to keep cool, that's what I told my brain,
Will this pain ever go away?
**Maybe tomorrow, but not today.

Can I tell you all a story,
the story of lost love,
the story of regret,
the story of pain.

My story written in red across my arms,
across a fading attachment to reality,
across my shattered heart,
its pieces on the floor that I sink to,
so slow.

Can I tell you this story,
of constant life-or-death,
of feeling the end nearing,
my conclusion to this novel,
of my self-destructing life.

One more line in my story written in red,
have I gotten what I deserve?
Did I deserve any of this at all?

Perhaps you felt stressed by what we had,
because I'm just so ****** up,
because I need to be told
I won't be given up on,
since my intuition says
it's surely inevitable

I told you it was anxiety,
but I saw you leaving,
the one I loved more than anyone,
the one I still love more than anyone,
the one I trusted not to give up on me,
the one that promised she wouldn't give up.

I wonder, as I float in limbo,
when does this pain end?